“Yeah,” I hear myself say, my voice coming out slower than usual. My gaze flicks back to her, catching the tension at the corner of her mouth.
She nods, but doesn’t elaborate, and it’s enough to make Kelly’s head tilt like she’s sensing there’s more.
“Do you two know each other?” she asks, her eyes darting between us.
Paige hesitates, just a beat, before she says, “Sort of. Through my brother.”
Jason’s name doesn’t get mentioned, but it’s sitting in the middle of the table like a third wheel.
I lean back, forcing my voice into the kind of casual I use with regular customers. “Yeah. Jason Richards and I go way back.”
But my brain’s not buying the casual act. It’s too busy flashing me little memory fragments—her curled up in the corner of their big couch with a book, her laugh drifting from the kitchen when she thought no one was listening, the way she used to look at me, shy and red-faced.
Now, she’s looking at me like she’s not sure what to make of me at all.
Kelly gives a bright smile, flipping open her folder. “Well, that makes this easier. No need for formal introductions, then.”
I nod, pulling my focus back to the reason we’re here, but every time Paige shifts in her chair or looks up at me, I feel a strange, uninvited awareness I have no business feeling for Jason Richards’ little sister. And yet, here it is, sitting in my chest.
Kelly launches into the lease details, her tone upbeat yet efficient, sliding papers across the table for me to reference. I nod at the right times, answering her questions when they’re directed at me, but most of my attention keeps drifting toward Paige.
She’s listening closely, that much is obvious. Her posture is straight, hands resting on her lap, but every now and then she glances at me. I can tell she’s prepared—probably rehearsed a dozen answers in her head, but I can also see the small tells. The way her fingers smooth an invisible wrinkle in her slacks. The way her foot shifts under the table when she’s waiting for my response.
When she finally speaks, it’s with a surprisingly steady voice. Confident, but not overplaying it. “I’ve already reviewed the terms Kelly sent, and they work for me. I’d like to clarify the maintenance agreement, though.”
Her gaze is on me now, not Kelly, and for a second, I almost forget she’s Jason’s sister. Almost. “Standard for the building,” I say, keeping my tone even. “I cover structural, plumbing, electrical. Anything relating to your build out— fixtures, appliances, cosmetic— you handle.”
She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing just a little.
She leans in a touch. “The appliances in there right now are… well, outdated is putting it nicely. I’d like to bring in updated ones—a commercial-grade oven, mixers, maybe a new fridge unit. To do that, I’ll need the electrical upgraded. Possibly some other modifications depending on the specs.”
I nod slowly, already running through the logistics in my head.
She’s just leasing, so it doesn’t make much sense for her to eat the full cost of long-term infrastructure upgrades that will ultimately stay with the building.
“Maybe we can work out a split,” I say, leaning forward a little. “If the electrical panel or wiring needs upgrading to handle commercial-grade equipment, that’s something I’m willing to invest in. It benefits the building long-term. But if we’re talking specialized hookups or modifications just for your setup—those costs would be on you.”
Her brow furrows slightly, but not in disagreement—more like she’s already calculating what that would mean for her budget. “So, for example,” she says, “if the current system can’t handle the oven I want, you’d cover the panel upgrade, but I’d pay for running the dedicated line to that oven?”
“Exactly,” I say. “That way you’re not paying to improve the whole building, and I’m not footing the bill for equipment that’s only useful for your business. I think it’s a fair compromise.”
Kelly smiles while making notes. “That’s a reasonable approach. We can put the language in a lease addendum so there’s no confusion later.”
“I’ll have my electrician check the panel and wiring in that space,” I continue, leaning back in my chair but keeping my focus on her. “If you give me the list of equipment you plan on putting in, I can have him upgrade everything, make sure it’s all up to code, and ensure we don’t overload the building’s existing systems. Once we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we can decide how to divide the costs.”
She doesn’t flinch at the mention of cost or extra steps, which tells me she’s already factored it in. “That’s fine. I just want to make sure everything is ready before I start bringing in equipment.”
There’s that thoughtfulness again, professional and deliberate. Definitely not the kid I remember who could barely squeak out a sentence in my presence. I keep my face neutral, but inside, I’m trying to reconcile this capable, self-assured woman with the flashes of memory I’ve been getting ever since I recognized her.
Kelly jots another note, her pen moving quickly across the page. “I’ll set up the inspection as soon as possible. If you can get your specs together, Paige, we’ll make sure the electrician reviews those when he’s on-site.”
“Already working on it,” she says, a small, confident curve tugging at her lips.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile like that, and for reasons I can’t explain, it hits me right in the gut. I force myself to refocus on the folder in front of us, on the black-and-white terms we’re supposed to be discussing, but part of my mind is still replaying that moment. And I know it’s going to keep replaying whether I want it to or not.
Kelly glances between us, pen poised above her notes. “So,” she says, her tone shifting into a tone that clearly indicates that she’s ready to wrap it up, “would you both like to move forward with the original lease agreement for now and handle the electrical upgrades in an addendum later? Or do you want those changes made to the lease before you sign? For assurance.”
She mostly looks at Paige, since she’s the one most at risk if I don’t hold up my end of it.
